August 09, 2018

New Forest riding

Brena and I enjoyed a very hot weekend in the New Forest, fifty miles south of here. So hot, in fact, that asphalt on some minor roads was starting to melt. We left a trail of hoof prints as we walked forward with an odd sucking sound. Brena didn't seem to notice.

Away from roads, the forest harboured remoteness. Hidden valleys, unpeopled and silent, were lovely as ever. You can see how dry the forest looks after several months with scarcely a shower of rain. At least it's not dry enough to readily burn.

The streams were very low, in some cases just isolated pools of stagnating water. Ponds had dried up, though a few springs still flowed. There is enough water for the wild animals, and for the cattle and ponies turned free to graze. Brena turned her nose up a little until thirsty, then drank willingly enough.

Ponies roam all around the forest, sometimes grazing in the open, other times tucked away in cool shade almost hidden. In a glade we came across a mare and foal. The youngster was curious enough to amble over and stare at Brena and I. Better not get too close though: when we got around that bush, off the foal trotted, back to its mother.